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“Sorry. You aren’t on her list of visitors, and she doesn’t want to see you,” the woman says.
I growl and move toward the desk, my hands slapping down on the laminated wood.
“I am her fucking mate,” I snap at the elderly woman.
She flinches, and her chair squeaks on the linoleum floor as she sits back further. The only thing separating us is the plexiglass. Lucky for her because Khan wants to rip her to shreds.
“I’m sorry, but unless you—”
Her words cut off when the double doors bang wide open, and a woman about my mate’s age comes storming out in a blaze of fury, her hazel eyes pinned on me as she lifts an accusing finger. I recognize her as the girl from the nightclub. She was with Elena that night, so I know she’s her friend, but for the life of me, I can’t remember her name.
“You fucking bastard! How could you!” she screams at me.
Yet my eyes only see the open doors behind her, and I run for them, barging past her and letting Khan forward to pick up her scent. The only smells I can trace are disinfectants, hand sanitizer, and bleach, so instead, I race up corridors and check rooms as I pass each one while being screamed at to leave or get out. One snarl from Khan has them backing up when they recognize whom they are talking to. He demands to know where she is before a startled doctor points us in the direction.
As we stalk the corridors, unease fills me, and I stop at a blue door. My heart races as I grip the handle and twist it, shoving it open and stepping into the small room. Elena lies on the bed in a hospital gown, IV drips hanging out of her and blood caked in her hair, one side of her face so swollen she can’t even open her eye on that side. Her face is covered in black and purple bruises. From what I can see, the rest of her not covered by the blanket is the same.
Moving to her side, I grip her hand, and she looks at me before recognizing me and jerking her hand from my grip.
“Who did this to you?” I ask, ignoring the pang of hurt when she wiggles over on the bed, trying to get away from me.
“You did!” she snaps, looking away and reaching for the emergency button on the remote.
Just as she does, her friend rushes in behind me. Reaching for her hand again, she jerks away, her eyes going to her friend behind me.
“Get security to get him out here,” she tells her friend.
“Elena, I am your mate,” I whisper when she turns her wounded gaze back to me.
“You are nothing to me. Now, get out!” she growls before wincing.
I press my lips in a line and fist my hands at my sides before hearing the security guards, who no doubt will use tranquilizers if I refuse to leave.
“Tell me who did this. I will make it up to you,” I tell her.
She laughs, shaking her head. “Pack business is dealt with inside the pack. You have done enough. I’m not part of your pack, or any pack now. You knew what leaking that video meant, and still, you did it. Now, get out of my room. You are not my Alpha, and you are definitely not my mate!”
Hearing the footsteps outside the hall, Eli pops his head into the room. “Axton, we gotta go,” he says and nods.
“I’ll make it up to you,” I tell her, turning on my heel before my ass gets shot with wolfsbane darts.
“Did she say who did it?” Eli asks.
“No, but my best guess is her father. No one else would dare touch Alpha Derrick’s daughter,” I tell him, and Khan growls loudly in my head. He wants blood.
Chapter
Eight
Elena
Alisha paces the room; I don’t even remember coming here. I only know what she’s told me. She told me that my mother had called an ambulance, and Alisha raced to meet me here, and she hadn’t left my side since. My father banished me from the pack, and Alisha was not taking that news well. At the same time, I felt nothing but numb despite the pain coursing through me.
“We can join another pack,” she mutters, and I know she will for me.
She is that kind of friend. The ride-or-die sort. We have been best friends since first grade, and I know that won’t change.
“And leave your family behind?” I ask her.
